Cypher: The Douglas Ramsey Story
by Nathaniel Moore
Summary: A look at the first stages in the career of Douglas Ramsey aka 'Cypher.' Guest appearances by Nick Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D.
1. Chapter 1: The Two Men

X-Men: Beginnings

Book One: Douglas Ramsey (Codename: Cypher)

Chapter One: The Two Men

The noise of the industrial assembly line buzzing with fervor, two figures moved slowly from one aisle to the next. One, a man with short red hair, slight limp, trim business attire and a pair of polarized Aviator sunglasses perched atop his forehead, was gesturing emphatically to the other. His gestures were accompanied by a well-rehearsed sales pitch. His name was Henry Peter Gyrich, and he had become accustomed to giving this particular pitch to high ranking members of the military, government, and press. This was the first time he had dealt one-on-one with a civilian.

The men stopped at a computer console. On its screen appeared a rotating, wire-frame diagram of what resembled a human skull. Gyrich raised his finger to the touchscreen and with a few movements slid several layers of computer generated graphics into the skull framework. Then his hand moved to the keypad immediately under the touchscreen. A few keystrokes there produced the desired effect.

"All of our designs are produced in a similar manner," stated Gyrich. "And since we've been through the raw material already, perhaps you would like to see what happens when we reach the end stages of production."

The other man looked at Gyrich and nodded. He showed no emotion. He had been through transactions like this one before. "It never behooves one to give away too much," he thought, "especially to money-hungry derelicts like Gyrich."

The two men made a left turn at the end of a vacant, unmoving line, and met a heavily secured elevator door. Gyrich limped forward and produced a keycard, which he ran through the proper channel. The effect of this was that a panel to the right of the elevator door slid open and revealed another computer console. Attached to this console was a numbered keypad and a blue-green translucent horizontal screen, pulsing with electricity.

"Don't worry. It's completely safe," said Gyrich, a clever smirk stretching the corners of his mouth into a slight jester's grimace.

The other man was not amused.

Gyrich continued. He entered a five digit code on the keypad, then laid his palm on the translucent screen. It gave a tame crackle and accepted the given hand as Gyrich's. The door to the elevator opened and the two men stepped inside, whereupon the elevator descended into the waiting dark.

The elevator ride was quiet, aside from an occasional musical whistle from Gyrich. When they emerged from the lift, Gyrich spoke.

"What you are about to see is highly classified. We manage to keep what we're doing here a secret. What isn't a secret is how this particular venue for mutant control has been closed to us time and time again by both the government and by rogue mutant organizations. Even the inventor of this technology once dealt critical damage to the success of our operation. We work hard here sir, but we need financial backing to make this happen. I hope you are willing to help."

Gyrich had opened his mouth to speak more, but the second man wasn't listening. Instead he was staring intently beyond Gyrich's left shoulder, where, along the wall, there were lined several enormous robots, each standing twenty to thirty feet tall. But what caught the second man's attention most of all was an empty space between two of these robots. Along the wall at this empty space where several disconnected electrical cables, several of which were giving off cascading showers of sparks.

Gyrich noticed that his speech was falling on deaf ears and turned to see his visitor's focal point. His face burned red with anger. Fuming, Henry Peter Gyrich strode forward.

"Gilberti! Where are you? Gilberti!

There was no answer. Gyrich turned to his guest once more.

"I'm sorry. I gave specific instructions that there was to be no testing of the prototypes. I must find my assistant."

But at that moment, the elevator ground to a start and lifted off the ground back towards the ground level and the main warehouses. Ten minutes later, Dr. Sebastion Gilberti emerged from the recently re-descended lift car.

Gilberti was a middle-aged man. He had a graying widow's peak, with a nearly white goatee that didn't quite match his face. He wore a long black leather coat, unbuttoned across the chest. Under his coat he wore the standard uniform of the scientists working at Gyrich's facilities, a black buttoned shirt with both violet buttons and trimmings at the cuffs and neck. He seemed prepared to face Gyrich's wrath, but Gyrich took him by the elbow and drew him aside.

"Gilberti, I gave you instructions that no testing was to be done today. Yet now I arrive with a potential financial sponsor to observe our work and one of the prototypes is not in place. What have you done with it? I see that the prototypes haven't been painted yet either. Must I do everything myself?"

Gilberti's face was a little more blank than usual. He seemed puzzled as well.

"You didn't receive my message, Gyrich? I called your offices this morning to say I wouldn't be in until late today. I'm just arriving now. I've done nothing with any of the prototypes today, although I'm afraid that also means I was not able to paint them either."

The guest spoke up next. He asked, "Is there a problem?"

"Not at all," said Gyrich. "We'll be right over."

Gyrich's anger had defused into confusion, but he still would not jeopardize this chance. He forced himself into a cool, collected mood. He had been waiting years to make significant advancements, years that had only brought his plans toward fruition at a snail's pace. That was about to change, Gyrich told himself. Gyrich was almost right. Something was about to change.

The three men moved over towards the robots. Despite the emptiness in their eye sockets, eye sockets that the visitor recognized from Gyrich's wire-frame 'skull' displayed earlier, they stood ominously, watching the proceedings like sentinels.

It was at this point that things began to go wrong for Henry Peter Gyrich. At this point, a heavy creaking noise issued from the darkened corner of the facility. It was mechanical in nature, as were the two electric-red eyes that greeted the startled gaze of the three onlookers.

The three stood frozen as the missing sentinel stepped from the shadows. It was the robot that broke the silence.

"Surrender now, mutant."

The voice wavered like a radio receiver trying to find a frequency before repeating its demand. Receiving no response from the three men, it advanced upon them. The buzzing voice emanated from the robot again: "Mutant not identified. Surrender now or be subjected to the consequences."

Gilberti had moved over to the room's main control board upon the robot's first advances and now was typing frantically. The robot raised its arm in the direction of Gyrich and his guest.

"Shut it down," yelled Gyrich, as the visitor gazed in intrigue at the monumental mechanical monster. Despite the threats of the sentinel, he was not afraid. From his post by the computer, Gilberti was encountering difficulty.

"We're locked out! Someone's got access to our system," yelled the scientist.

"How is that possible?"

"It isn't possible!"

"Well, right now circumstances seem to indicate otherwise! Do something!"

"I can't get control back!"

At this point, the robot's raised hand had opened and revealed a circular glowing module on its palm.

"It's going to kill us," yelled Gyrich. And with that exclaimation, the robot delivered a volley of highly concentrated laser beams towards Gyrich and his visitor. The lasers missed their targets, as Gyrich and his guest had leapt behind a row of unused crates and boxes. The robot appeared to be uninterested in Gilberti. After another attempt failed similarly, the robot spoke again.

"Cooperation not received. Now using lethal force."

With this declaration, metal plates covering the robots shoulders slid over and two Gatling Guns made an appearance. Gyrich was beside himself now. He began yelling at Gilberti again.

"Shut it down! Hit self-destruct! Do anything."

Gilberti had already been working at a feverish rate. His attempts at accessing the 'self-destruct' command had already proved worthless.

"I'm completely shut out of everything. I can't get to the control protocols! I've only got one chance to stop it."

Gilberti was no fool. He had already begun a complete shutdown of the entire operating system, hoping that the hacker was using it to control the attacking robot. The scientist won his gamble, but at a great price. A complete shutdown meant losing years of files, years of work, down the drain. As the last of the system files were destroyed the robot's red eyes faded from view and the beast slumped into an inoperative heap of metal.

The chaos concluded, Gyrich sheepishly helped his visitor from the floor, apologizing profoundly.

"I'm so sorry. If you'll allow me to – "

The visitor cut him off.

"Mr. Gyrich, I've had enough of your babbling. I believe I've seen enough."

"Give me another chance, sir. This is merely an anomaly. If you – "

Cut off again.

"Gyrich, be quiet and listen to me before you make me change my mind. I've decided to finance your entire operation."

Gyrich was speechless. His guest continued.

"I am prepared to deliver you a sum of one million dollars to keep your work going," he said, "as a start."

"Whatever you want, I'm sure, sir," stammered Gyrich. "And the first thing we'll do is improve the targeting system. Never again will innocent citizens like yourself be targeted as mutants. I'll see to it personally once we repair the damage here."

Sebastian Shaw straightened his suit and smiled.


	2. Chapter 2: New Friends

X-Men: Beginnings

Book One: Douglas Ramsey (Codename: Cypher)

Chapter Two: New Friends

"You're doing it Doug!"

Speaking was Kitty Pryde, also known as Shadowcat to her closest friends. Currently she was speaking with a new friend. His name was Douglas Ramsey.

Due to circumstances beyond her control (at least that's what Kitty liked to think), Miss Pryde had been spending more time away from those she considered her closest friends, and more time with people perhaps closer to her age, but farther from her comfort zone. Kitty Pryde was a member of the X-Men, mutants with special powers, or gifts, who strove to overcome the hatred they so often met with, and make the world a better place.

Recently Professor Charles Xavier, leader and mentor of the X-Men, had decided it would be best if Kitty were temporarily to join the New Mutants, a younger group of students at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. The change in scenery was not going well, and Kitty had recently become acquainted with Doug, a new kid at school who enjoyed working with computers even more than Kitty did. Soon a friendship was forged, and Kitty always felt relieved to be free of the "X-Babies," as she called the New Mutants, and spend time with Doug after school.

On this particular occasion, Kitty and Doug were seated in the upper level recreation room of the Ramsey abode. Doug's sanctuary, the room held several game consoles, a home theater system, and Doug's personal computer workshop.

From this workshop, Doug had shown off an uncanny gift with computer programming and languages to Kitty on more than one occasion. Doug would often surprise Kitty with newly written computer games to test. He hoped, when done with college, to follow in the footsteps of Roberta Williams and Benoît Sokal, his favorite adventure game writers. He had even reluctantly hacked into the school account of Kitty's chemistry teacher to check on a test grade. It was this last endeavor that had given Kitty an idea.

In one of her last information sessions with Professor Xavier and the X-Men, Kitty had learned that Sentinel production had been started again, this time by an unknown civilian entity. Kitty knew all about Sentinels. Giant, mutant hunting robots were no fun. Their invention and production had once been funded by the U.S. Government, but the feds had rescinded said funding after some of the robots had gone haywire and started attacking 'regular' people. Now they were returning, this time out of the government's control. The X-Men had located the main production facility, but Professor Xavier insisted on waiting for more information before attempting an infiltration of the production grounds. This is where Kitty Pryde's little idea came into play.

X-Man Hank McCoy, codenamed Beast, had been able to locate the Sentinel facility based on computer readings that matched known Sentinel operating data. McCoy had been able to pinpoint two areas by which an outsider could hack into their computer systems. However, Hank had been quick to explain that the Sentinel factory's computer systems were heavily guarded by firewalls, passwords, encryptions, and numerous other security measures, and while finding a way to get in was one thing, actually doing so was quite another.

Kitty believed, in her stubborn teenage heart, that Doug would have little to no problem hacking in and seeing what the new Sentinel operators were up to. And since the Sentinels were not being produced by a government sanctioned entity, perhaps Doug would not have scruples about accessing their systems. She had snuck into Beast's lab, not hard to do when you can phase through walls, and obtained the IP addresses of the Sentinel base of operations. There were three. Beast had explained that one belonged to a business obviously being used as a front for Sentinel activity, while the other two were more hidden, and protected by the aforementioned security measures. Now all Kitty needed was a plausible reason for Doug to hack their system. Somehow, "Could you check in on this top secret operation that may be trying to kill me and my friends because we have different powers that make a lot of people fear and/or hate us?" wasn't doing to cut it.

Finally, Kitty decided that she would be semi-honest. One afternoon after school, while on their way to Doug's house, Kitty told Doug that she had been doing some research into pharmaceutical companies for extra credit in one of her classes, and she found a company that she suspected of being a bit shady when it came to their drug production. From there, Kitty's story explained that she had found hidden IP addresses that were heavily encrypted, and that she hoped Doug would do the honors and they could see what was going on behind the scenes together.

"If there's something big going down, we could be the ones that blow the whistle," Kitty explained. "It could be the next…"

Doug cut her off. "Kitty, I don't know that I feel right just jumping in and breaking into someone's personal space like that. There must be private, privileged information in there that I have no business poking my head into."

The debate went on while they walked to the Ramsey front door. Doug appeared to be unyielding, rebutting every argument Kitty had for him. As Doug opened the front door and invited her inside, Kitty knew she had one final card to play, and she had to play it now or else her plan went out the window.

"Well, if you don't think you could do it, Doug, you could at least have the decency to tell me straight up, instead of trying to be all moral about it."

"Kitty, what are you talking about?"

"You don't want to disappoint me, or embarrass yourself, or something like that, so you won't do it. You're just scared of failure."

"I'm not afraid of failing. That has nothing to do with it."

"So you know you can do it? I've seen these encryptions, they are no walk in the park, and I don't know that you've seen anything like them because I sure haven't. We could do something big here. If something is going on there that is a threat to ordinary people like you and me, we should be doing something about it. The government has to worry about all this secret phone tapping and right to privacy stuff, but if we go in there, we're not looking for personal information on people, we're looking for something that is potentially dangerous. Their books don't match up, something could be going down there that effects hundreds of people in a negative way. We can stop it, or do our best to stop it. If there's nothing wrong, we get back out and nobody is the wiser.

"And what happens if they catch us?"

"Doug, you don't get caught. And if they somehow manage to have someone even smarter than you, what are they going to do? It will be a case of two high schoolers playing a prank, we'll get warned and then it will be done."

Doug was silent as he pulled a Coke from the fridge, opened it, and took a long drink. He looked at Kitty as he set the can down. Then he strode past her and began an ascent upstairs.

"Let's get this over with," he said.


	3. Chapter 3: Breaking and Entering

Chapter 3: "Breaking and Entering"

Doug and Kitty took their typical places in Doug's "control room." Although once used for recreation of all sorts, Doug had gradually taken it over bit by bit. On the far end of it, video game consoles new and vintage lined the wall, each tucked neatly in their own shelved compartment. In the opposite corner was Doug's workshop, where he built, repaired, adapted, updated, and renovated computers and hardware for fun and, sometimes, profit.

It was in neither of those locations that Doug and Kitty were now seated. Doug's seat, an old leather-backed swiveling office chair, was positioned in front of his new flat-screen monitor as he booted up his computer. Kitty had brought a wooden bar stool over from the workshop, and positioned it to Doug's left.

Thanks to their argument, Doug wasn't in a talkative mood, but Kitty thought that would change as he became more absorbed in the task at hand. As Doug's computer whirred to life, Kitty dug through her backpack for the pilfered IP addresses she had hidden in her planner. She had broken them up so that the address numbers were written on different pages, making it next to impossible for anyone besides her to discern their true significance. She tore a piece of paper from her chemistry notebook and unscrambled them for Doug, who was now readying himself, and his computer, for action.

Doug had programmed what he called a "dummy firewall" onto his computer. When he wanted his computer location to remain anonymous, he ran the dummy in front of his usual lines of defense. The dummy was programmed to be difficult, but not impossible, to break through. If anyone managed to do so, it was also programed to leak false information to the would-be hacker. It also dropped a traceable virus into the attacker's connection, allowing Doug to track it if he so desired.

Doug had never actually had to trace anything because nobody had ever broken though his 'dummywall.' Nevertheless, he was taking no chances. He double checked for gaps and loopholes while Kitty was assembling the needed addresses. He then moved on to a complete encryption of all data on his computer. Doug often wondered why Kitty had never been able to decode his encryptions. He used a fairly standard cypher, one that he could read without thinking twice, but to Kitty it may as well have been a language from another planet.

All precautions taken, Doug was finally ready to begin. From safely behind his firewalls, Doug began his search for Kitty's IP addresses. He ran the IP numbers into PingPound, another one of his programming breakthroughs. Doug's goal here was to find a hole that he could sneak into. An open port would be too much to ask, but Doug was hopeful.

Beast had shown the X-Men that there was a connection between HealthPharm's website and the Sentinel production labs. He had deduced that an area of HealthPharm's site was devoted to reporting on Sentinel production in code to an outside source. Not every mutant-hating lowlife was computer savvy, and if the financier wasn't on site, they probably wouldn't want to risk him having access to the system from afar, in case he got caught or traced. It would be much easier to have him go to HealthPharm's site, check out the latest update to a certain page, and match it to a predetermined code.

Going off this assumption, Beast had determined that certain aspects of HealthPharm's "Company News" page had been being updated from a different source and IP address than the rest of the site. It was on this page that Kitty had Doug start.

Doug soon confirmed what Beast had said, and uncovered the address that particular page was being updated from. He also found a hidden link to a deserted webpage designated "Under Construction" by HealthPharm's online staff. It was complete with the standard Latin "lorum ipsum dolor" filler. As Doug scrolled through this page, he grew excited.

"Kitty, do you see it?"

"All the Latin gibberish?"

"No, no, the pattern."

"There's a pattern?"

Kitty was no slouch when it came to computers, word searches, code cracking, or any kind of lateral thinking, but she had absolutely no idea what Doug was talking about.

"Right here Kitty!"

Halfway down the page, Doug was pointing to a paragraph indentation where the 'lorum' began again.

"This is the only paragraph on the page that is indented," Doug said. "Now look here."

Doug drew an imaginary line with his finger around the outside of the paragraph in question.

"Kitty, 'Lorum Ipsum' doesn't use the letters K, W, or Z. But in this paragraph they are strewn in at what looks like random intervals between words. But each time they show up, the translation gets funky and doesn't match up with what it's supposed to. The part that should be translated 'blame belongs to those who fail' is instead 'blame belongs to the weak.' Also, 'laborious physical exercise' becomes 'laborious physical rest.' There's even an addition to the end here. It says, "Fac Quod Vis," that's 'do what you will' in English.

"I didn't know you knew Latin," Kitty interjected.

"Me neither," thought Doug, as he proceeded to ignore Kitty's last utterance. "Where did I pick that up?"

Doug resumed his examination of the page. He opened the source code of the page and ran his finger along the lines of text. Finding nothing of interest, Doug's next course of action was plugging in the newly discovered IP address into PingPound. A few minutes later, he had his results.

"Ok. I think there's a secure shell port here that I can jam open. It's similar to the school's. I can sneak in using the same harmless looking encrypted junk."

Doug had compiled an extensive collection of trashed computer files onto a server he called 'the Junkyard.' The files were old pictures, documents, software programming and much more that Doug had snagged from computers left in city dumps and at second hand stores. Tracing the information's source was not possible. There was too much from too many places.

Doug used this server to distract the open port. While the server appeared to be trying to force outside information into its victim's vulnerable port, Doug would sneak into it undetected. With so much information flooding the IP port, Doug's hack would likely be unnoticed.

At this point in the proceedings, Kitty became completely lost. Doug was in his own world now. Kitty heard the terms 'Telnet,' 'buffer overflow' and 'MD5 algorithm' and offered the occasional word of pretend understanding. Computer languages she had never seen flew across the monitor as Doug's fingertips whirred and clicked across the keyboard. And finally…

"Doug! You're doing it! You're in!"

"All right, Kitty, where to from here?"

Kitty scanned the filenames on Doug's screen.

"AlphaCenter seems a good place to start."

Beast had explained earlier that whoever was manufacturing the Sentinels had been using a program called Alpha Center to run tests on the Sentinels. A simple program, it was more or less designed as a power switch to turn things off or on.

Doug, now practically using his victim's computer as his own, opened the program. It had been modified from its original state and now needed extra validation to allow its operation. This validation was to be given in answer to three questions.

The first: "To whom does blame belong to?"

Answer: "Those who fail"

The second: "What is most laborious?"

Answer: "Physical rest"

The third: "What do you want me to do?"

Answer: "Fac Quod Vis"

Kitty was now clutching Doug's shoulder in excitement. Alpha Center had brought up a list of sectors. Sectors one through five were active, sectors six and seven were not. Searches through sectors one through five proved somewhat disappointing. Kitty observed that these sectors were apparently reserved for operating conveyor belts. Something was being manufactured here, but Kitty still had no proof of Sentinel activity. Sector six, on the other hand, proved quite rewarding. In sector six, only one thing was listed: "Wideawake 2."

Kitty's heart jumped to her throat as she recognized the Sentinel code name. She instructed Doug to delve further, but no other information was available. In addition to the project title, only an 'on' and an 'off' switch were on the page. And whatever was being turned on or off wasn't being used right now.

"Hit the button, Doug."

"No way, Kitty."

"Come on, let's just see what happens."

"How about let's not, huh? We have no idea what that is hooked up to, we could endanger people's lives if we go messing around with this."

"We could endanger people's lives if we don't find out what this is."

Doug had already lost one battle with Kitty, and he wasn't in the mood to tolerate another.

"Ok, listen. I'm not going to touch that button. If you want to come over here and poke around where you don't belong, I'm not going to stop you. But I'm warning you that I wash my hands completely of the matter, and everything that happens from here on out is completely your fault."

Kitty was impatient and barely heard anything after "I'm not going to stop you." She practically threw Doug out of his chair as she reached for the mouse to make her (all too obvious) choice.

And nothing happened. Kitty was tense as she waited for some kind of sign from the computer monitor. Minutes passed. Still nothing. Doug reached for the computer.

"Anything else you want to see?"

"Just wait, would you?

"There's nothing to see here!"

"How do you know?"

"You're impossible!"

With that, Doug stalked from the room, leaving Kitty staring at the computer screen. He made it as far as his bedroom before the yelling started.

"Doug! Come quick! Something's wrong!"

Doug Ramsey retraced his steps to where he'd left Kitty, half expecting verifiable evidence of the start of World War III. Instead, he was greeted by an unfamiliar emblem flashing across his screen.

With Alpha Center still in working order behind it, the black silhouette of an eagle, wings spread wide, stars and stripes across its chest, was spinning in the middle of Doug's monitor. Words formed a circle around the bird of prey, Doug read them aloud.

"Strategic Hazard Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division…Kitty, what the heck is that?"

"You don't know?"

"Where did it come from?"

"I wasn't touching anything. It just came up on the screen."

Doug flew into action.

"We need to get out. Unplug everything."

Doug dove behind his desk and yanked the power strip out of the wall, disconnecting his computer and equipment from their power source. Once back on his feet, he attacked the Junkyard, removing all cabled and connections from his portable server.

"Outta my way, Kitty!"

Doug staggered down the stairs, through the laundry room and out the garage door. With a thud, he managed to lift the server into the Ramsey family garbage can. Then he ran inside and grabbed the black contractor trash bags that his father had forgotten to take out and piled them on top of the Junkyard. He wheeled the can to the curb and ran back upstairs to re-join Kitty.

"We are never, ever, doing that again!"


	4. Chapter 4: Official Business

Chapter 4: Official Business

The day after their escapade, Doug wanted nothing to do with Kitty. He wasn't actually that upset with her, he just didn't feel like talking, especially when Doug knew she would want to talk about the situation they had encountered the previous day.

"Curiosity killed the kitty cat…that's about right," thought Doug.

Fortunately for Doug, Kitty wasn't in school that day, so he was able to throw himself back into his studies to get his mind off his worries temporarily. While not 'cool enough' to be popular, Doug was never really roped into the 'geek' stereotype either. Without Kitty around he mostly kept to himself, with the exception being gym class, where he and a few classmates had assembled a killer volleyball team that had, so far, gone undefeated in school intramural play.

The final bell of the day having rung, Doug was on his way to the school library to get started on his homework when he heard his name being paged over the intercom. He took the stairs, two at a time, and ascended to the source of the summons: Mr. Spaniol's office.

Mr. Spaniol was the assistant principle. His door was open. Doug knocked on it and was invited in by a female voice.

As Doug Ramsey entered the office he noticed two things. First, there were three people in the room besides himself, and second, none of them were Mr. Spaniol.

Startled, Doug's eyes darted from one person to the next. There was an enormous brute of a man gazing out the far window over 19th Street, where the final busses were pulling away from the curb, a woman, obviously in charge, who was staring at Doug intently, and a third man who was nibbling on a toothpick wedged between his thin, pale lips, which were framed neatly by a jet black goatee. They were all wearing black suits without ties and both men had dark sunglasses perched atop their heads.

The woman spoke first.

"Mr. Ramsey, your assistant principle was kind enough to lend us his office for a few minutes so we didn't have to go disturbing the entire school over you. We're going to make this brief, and I advise you to be completely honest with us, because we're not the easiest people to get along with, especially if you're into lying. Take a seat."

It was at this point that the woman removed a wallet from a suit pocket and opened it to reveal an official credential and badge to Doug. Doug had never seen either credential or badge before, although he instantly recognized the symbol that graced the front of both of them.

"My name is Maria Hill, I'm with S.H.I.E.L.D. We're basically the FBI and CIA combined and on steroids. You've probably never heard of us, which is how we like it. Yesterday you did something that Agent Ebersol here has been trying to do for weeks. Now our director isn't sure if he's mad at you for horning in on us or glad that you broke something open, so I'm here to find out which one it should be. Why were you hacking HealthPharm yesterday Mr. Ramsey?"

Doug was, understandably, incredibly nervous. He wasn't looking forward to being locked up or expelled for interfering for a government investigation, if that was what this S.H.I.E.L.D. agency was going to do to him, and he certainly didn't want to get Kitty into trouble either. He finally decided on the best approach.

"I did it to impress a girl."

Agent Hill's eyes narrowed. Doug went on.

"My friend was doing some research for a project she was working on and thought something fishy was going on at HealthPharm. I tried to tell her that she was being paranoid, but in the end I offered to try to hack in and see if I could find anything."

"And did you?" asked Agent Hill

"Not really," said Doug. "I found this program called 'Alpha Center' and some other stuff, but nothing really weird that I could see, but I didn't look at everything either, I got out pretty quick when I saw your logo come up on my screen."

Agent Hill was silent. She consulted her watch. It was a minute or two before she spoke again.

"Mr. Ramsey, I am prepared to offer you a deal."

"A deal? What kind of deal? I'm not going to jail am I?"

"Not if you listen to us."

Doug thought it was getting uncomfortably warm in Mr. Spaniol's office. Agent Hill continued.

"Listen, if you did something that a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent couldn't, then you're either incredibly lucky, or incredibly good at what you do. We've got a situation in Colorado that we need all hands on deck for. The deal is this: you come out to Colorado with us next week and put in a few hours of community service to your country, we'll call it even."

"But what about school? And my family? What will they think?"

"All that will be taken care of, Mr. Ramsey."

"What happens if I decline the offer?"

"A suspension from school for you and your 'girlfriend,' and we hand over our information to HealthPharm and let their legal department handle it. They have a nasty reputation, Mr. Ramsey. Now what do you say?"

Doug mulled over his options. It was his turn to be silent for a minute. He looked up at the agents occupying the room with him. The big one was still over at the window. He hadn't faced the group for the duration of the interview.

"How would I get to Colorado?" Doug asked.

"Agent Flumm here will meet you at the airport a week from Friday. There'd be a chartered plane waiting for you there. Do we have a deal?"

Doug rubbed his forehead, then ran his hand backwards through his dishwater blonde hair. He sighed.

"We have a deal."

Agent Hill gave an official government smile of contentment and indicated to her compatriots, and to Doug, that the meeting was over.

"We'll be in touch, Mr. Ramsey"

The man with the toothpick, Agent Flumm, stopped to glower at Doug as he passed. He muttered as he left the room, "See you soon, kid."

Doug sat awhile after the S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel had vacated the room, alone with his thoughts. Only now did new worries creep into his head. Kitty had been right about HealthPharm, and the day after she and Doug confirmed her concerns, the feds were after Doug. Could they be trusted?


	5. Chapter 5: Arrival

Chapter 5: Arrival

It was early morning when the chartered S.H.I.E.L.D. airplane touched down at Colorado Springs Municipal Airport. Doug had reported for duty and met Agent Flumm as directed. Their plane left the tarmac in a manner of minutes, a perk of having 'government clearance' as Flumm said. Apparently more airplane delays are caused by jet-setting government agents than the general public is allowed to know, a fact that Flumm seemed eager to pass on to the youngster traveling with him.

A black Acura waited for the unlikely pair outside the airport. Its driver, a stocky man with black suit and sunglasses gathered their luggage and deposited it in the trunk. Once this section of their journey was underway, Flumm explained the situation (somewhat) to Doug.

"There's a…facility located a couple hours from here. It's hidden away in Mount Charteris, which you've never heard of because we make sure it never appears on any map. It's part of a little offshoot of the Rockies in Baca County. We've only been able to get access to the top few levels, but based on the efforts of several underground terrorist groups, there's something there with a whole lot of power in it. Your job is to help us get it out."

Flumm paused to take a drink from his water bottle. Doug had a feeling that this might be a long car ride. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent continued.

"We've had a presence in a nearby town for a few years. We've been masquerading as a mental institute with help from the CIA. Their man August Masters runs the show there, but he tolerates us pretty well. Kind of a creep though if you ask me, into a lot of Stephen King books. Anyway, he flew out himself a couple weeks ago to check things out. He normally calls the shots from Washington. A day or two after he arrived we started getting crazy readings from inside Charteris. Energy spikes have been causing the flora in the area to grow erratically. The locals are starting to ask questions so we need to get in there and find out what the heck is going on. We had a strike force go in yesterday to investigate and we haven't heard back yet. We think it is because of feedback caused by the energy spikes, so we're betting that Agent Barton has kept his people safe and sound."

"What kind of energy is it?" asked Doug.

"That's the weird thing. We don't know. It's been giving off different kinds of readings. It's some big conglomerate of electromagnetic, thermal and nuclear in nature, but it's almost constantly in flux so we actually have no idea, or very little. It doesn't mesh with any readings I do."

"Now listen, I'm only telling you all this because I think it will help us," continued Flumm after finishing off his water. "I'm supposed to be keeping my mouth shut until we get there and let Masters and Agent Hill fill you in. You'll be assigned to Special Agent Carosella, the big guy you met at school. He's 'earning his wings' still, so to speak, so he gets the fun job of keeping track of you. Neither I nor Masters think you'll be much help, but it's fine with me if you want to prove us wrong. Just stay out of trouble, unless we tell you it's the kind of trouble we want you in. Understood?"

Doug understood, and nodded to indicate so. But before he could ask any more questions, Agent Flumm had yanked out two earplugs from inside his suit and placed them the sides of his head.

"Get some sleep," he said. "We got quite a drive ahead of us still."

It was another hour and a half before the car stopped again.

"This is where we get off," said Flumm. "I've got to switch to civilian clothes and swap cars here."

They had stopped outside a dilapidated old gas station in the middle of nowhere. An elderly gentleman tottered out from the shade of his empty service garage. He motioned Doug from the car. Flumm had disappeared into the garage. Doug followed closely. He was lead to an opening only about four feet high that he had to crawl though. It was dark now and he could only hear Agent Flumm's footsteps. He followed them. Then he heard something else, it was a wall panel sliding open to reveal an underground bunker with a number of vehicles.

There were several motorcycles, a Jeep, and an old blue Buick that Ebersol was heading for. He called for Doug to jump in and soon they were being hydraulically lifted up towards the ceiling of the bunker. The ceiling, which held no light fixtures, slid effortlessly aside and the two found themselves once again above ground, and back in the service garage.

Flumm got out of the car, removed his sunglasses, suit coat, tie and black wingtips, and replaced them with a fedora, sweater vest, and penny loafers. He was mumbling something about killing Carosella for his wardrobe selection.

"That's the last time I ever let a…"

Ebersol was interrupted by the old man, who asked him if he was ready to leave.

The agent replied in the affirmative and the old man slipped behind the wheel. Doug forgot his manners.

"You're driving us?"

"Relax son," the old man replied, "I've been 'admitted' fifteen times to Carriwhite Acres, nobody will suspect a thing."

This obviously wasn't what Doug wanted to hear. However, whatever his concerns were about the old man's driving skills, they were belayed by Agent Flumm, who demanded, to the older man's great protests, that he relegate himself to the passenger seat.

"Crazy people can't drive, Ed, you know that," Flumm quipped.

"Yeah, well, I can dream can't I?"

Aside from a few attempts by the old man at starting a conversation, the remainder of the car ride was spent in silence. Doug actually was able to fall asleep and was awoken by Flumm's voice after an hour of slumber.

"Ramsey! Wake up! We're taking 'grandpa' in for treatment."

With that, and a few short sputterings from the old man, they exited the Buick and made their way up the daffodil-surrounded walk to a dumpy looking white and grey building up the trail to the north. Doug was left gazing up at the grounds of Carriwhite Acres, mental hospital and government hideout.

Ramsey caught up to the two older men, who were already making their way through the electrically operated entrance and up to the front desk. Flumm addressed the receptionist.

"Good afternoon, ma'am, I have an admissions appointment with Mr. Gabriel Ralston. It is about my father here. "

"Yes, we've been expecting you. Right this way, sir."

The four made their way to the back of the facility. Shortly, they reached a group of elevators hidden from all other visitors and admissions. The receptionist slid a plastic card through a scanner, and the elevator opened up.

"Level seven," the receptionist indicated the floor on which Doug and company should exit the elevator. The three men boarded the lift, pressed the correct button, and shot down to the unknown.

Seconds later the metal elevator door opened and revealed a huge scientific workshop, full of computers, gadgets, gizmos, and things that spun. As the two older men moved forward, Doug gasped in incredulity. And while thus nearly incapacitated in wonder, he heard a familiar female voice. It was Agent Maria Hill, who had presumably arrived on scene to make Doug's life difficult.

"Mr. Ramsey, I see you had a safe trip. Welcome to Carriwhite Acres."


	6. Chapter 6: Carriwhite Acres

Chapter 6: Carriwhite Acres

Doug mumbled something in reply to Agent Hill. He was too absorbed in his surroundings to take much stock in what was coming from his mouth.

Inside this seemingly innocuous and bland facility, some of the most amazing things that Doug had ever seen towered over and surrounded him. He couldn't even begin to guess at the functions of everything he saw. There were monitoring machines, what looked like seismographs, and flashing lights and touchscreens everywhere. A mixture of black-coated S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and white-coated scientists were buzzing around the room, comparing notes and running various tests.

Hill stopped and followed Doug's gaze around the room, letting him take it all in. She walked over to Flumm and handed him Doug's Visitor's ID badge.

"Show him his room," Hill said. "I want him rested up tonight so we can get him started right away in the morning. Tell him where he is welcome to go, where he isn't, and what he can and can't touch. I'll introduce him in the morning to Masters, he doesn't want to be disturbed right now."

By this time Doug had regained his composure enough to sense the tension in Agent Hill's voice. He waited until she was out of earshot before asking Flumm who Masters was.

"He's the head honcho around here. He's an ex-CIA man and the head psychologist here."

"Are there real patients here?"

"That's one of the things that makes this place hard to find. Even our fronts are real."

Doug found his room comfortable, but he had too much energy to stay there. He had already seen too much to relax. Secret agents, highly advanced technology, it was all too much for the high schooler. At the same time, Doug was not willing to disobey the orders so recently given him by Agent Flumm. Foretuneatly, Doug was soon saved from his predicament by a knock at the door. It was Special Agent Carosella.

Carosella was even bigger than Doug had remembered him to be. He was close to seven feet tall and looked like he had been a regular member of World's Strongest Man contests. His apparel differed slightly from the other agents on site. Carosella's outfit was the same design and make as the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, but with yellow piping down the sleeves and legs. He stood at the door silent for a few moments, then ducked his head under the door frame and entered the room.

"I'm here to keep an eye on you," were the first words out of Carosella's mouth. Doug was surprised how soft spoken he was.

"I'm gonna be honest, I'm not much on this whole 'tough guy secret agent' stuff," he continued. "I'm here to do a job and make the best of it. I've got to keep you under supervision. I read the file they have on you, and I think I can see why. I wouldn't want you getting into any government secrets either, if I was them, which I guess I am."

Doug thought to himself that if Maria Hill had meant Agent Carosella to intimidate Doug into staying in line, Carosella wasn't doing that great of a job.

"I want you to call me Guido, like everyone else does," said the mammoth of a man, who Doug guessed was only about thirty years old.

"Call me Doug."

"I will."

Carosella flung off a backpack he had thrown over his shoulder and tossed it onto Doug's bed.

"These are your things. You need to wear this stuff at all times you are with us, except when you are off duty, which isn't going to be very often. I need to warn you that you need to stay inside the building at all times, unless you have permission to be out. We've got a public image to keep up, and we have to account for everyone inside at all times."

"Does that mean I'm going to be tracked?"

"We all are. When we leave and go off site we check out and can go where we want, but this is a high security area and very tricky to maintain, so we're all under wraps."

Doug was thoughtful for a second, and the result was his curiosity getting the best of him.

"So what's the deal?" he asked. "I saw a lot of technical stuff downstairs when I got here, and there's no way that they have anything to do with hacking. If I can do that on the things I have at home, there's no way they would need that much tech to break anything. What are they doing down there?"

Carosella hesitated. He got to his feet and went to the door, opened it, and looked both ways down the corridor. Finding it empty, he motioned to Doug to follow with one hand while using the other to indicate that silence was needed at this point.

They stepped from the door of Doug's room, which clicked shut behind them softly. Making their way back downstairs, Carosella led Doug to a small room just past the stairs that led to the main lab. He took a small key card from his pocket and held it to a scanner. In response, the door slid open revealing stacks of papers, and filing cabinets stretching from wall to wall. A lone desk sat in the corner of the room, which was only perhaps as big as a one car garage. Carosella strode to this computer, bent his large body over it and hit the power switch. He waved Doug over.

"These are the documents we have from the past four months. You passed Mount Charteris on the way here. There's been some crazy stuff going on, and it's coming from below the mountain. We're talking tremors, gravity fluctuations, and radioactive emissions. We're not looking at anything severe, but they have been increasing. There have been cases where flocks of birds will fall dead, or areas of vegetation dry out. We know something is going on in the mountain. There's a small base there that was used by covert military installations in the Cold War and it was supposed to have been abandoned. But when S.H.I.E.L.D. and the CIA traced it back to Charteris, we found new tech in place of the old stuff, and no way around the security of it all. We sent people in to check, and they come back messed up. We've got a whole ward of them here that Dr. Masters looks after. Some sort of synaptic disruption is what he calls it. I just call it weird."

Carosella had opened a video file on the computer of one of the people he mentioned. A voice, Doug assumed it was Masters, was asking questions. Each response was disjointed, as if the victims of whatever had happened were having several conversations simultaneously. Sentence fragments were followed by a series of clicks, made by the tongue of the victim.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent opened a few more video files, and each held footage of a similar patient, with different symptoms, but generally the same malady. On the third video, Doug stopped Carosella.

"So do they all do that same clicking pattern?"

"To the best of my knowledge, yes."

"Why do you think they are all calling for help?"  
>"I don't know that they are."<p>

"Sure they are. Didn't you notice?"

"I didn't notice anything but random jibber-jabber."

"But the clicks…"

"What about the clicks?"

"It's Morse Code!"

Doug grabbed the mouse on the desk and replayed the latest victim. Sure enough, you could hear the 'dot dot dot, dash dash dash, dot dot dot' of an SOS relayed through the clickings of the tongue.

"But why would they be doing that? And how can they be doing that? They don't have any control over their faculties!" Carosella was skeptical. Doug didn't have time to answer.

"Those are excellent questions," said a voice from the door. "And I see we may have some help answering them."

Framed in the door was the gaunt figure of a middle aged man in glasses and a white lab coat. A white streak was rushing across his auburn hair. He seemed tired, and not pleased at having found people intruding into his activities. He continued in a stern, unfriendly tone.

"I think you're done here Guido, take your 'ward' and go. I'll want to have a word with you both in the morning."

The two startled persons, one a government agent, and one a high school hacker, stopped, embarrassed somehow at being caught in their covert mission.

"Yes, sir, Dr. Masters," said Guido.

But as they passed, Masters grabbed Doug by the arm and yanked him aside.

"Not a word of this, young man, not one word, not even to Hill, or we're going to find ourselves in some hot water. Understand?

"Yes, sir."

"Good, now get to bed."

In bed that night, Doug turned the events of the day over in his mind. He mostly thought of the strange malady that plagued the agents who investigated the mysterious Mount Charteris on foot. Why SOS? And what could possibly be there that would scare that many professional government men? Hadn't they seen it all? What caused these strange mental brakedowns?

With these thoughts running through his head, Doug drifted to sleep, ready to wake the next day and dive deeper into the mystery.

Then, suddenly, it came to him. What if the SOS wasn't coming from the agents at all? What if it was from someone else? Was it possible to re-program a brain?


End file.
